


i wanna be your boyfriend

by singlebuthungry



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Based on a song, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, not really enemies but they are fighting at the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:15:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27015613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singlebuthungry/pseuds/singlebuthungry
Summary: 3 moments in which derek and stiles don't want to actually be friends- i wanna kiss your lips- i wanna kiss your l̶i̶p̶s̶ neck- i wanna be your bitchbased on i wanna be your girlfriend by girl in red
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 1
Kudos: 139
Collections: Sterek Goodness





	i wanna be your boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> i do listen to girl in red but i'm more of a sweater weather type of girl
> 
> english is not my first language so sorry xo

I wanna be your boyfriend

  1. **I don’t wanna be your friend I wanna kiss your lips**



They were sitting next to each other in Scott’s living room. Derek was frowning, as always, and Stiles played with his phone, sending constant messages to Lydia and Allison complaining about having to be stuck with a literal caveman in Scott’s house. 

“Dude” Scott complained, and slapped Stiles’ hand, making him drop his phone on the carpet. Stiles looked indignantly at him. “You two” he pointed between him and Derek “need to talk. Learn how to communicate! It’s not that hard I swear.”

“Well _I_ know how to actually talk to people” Stiles retorted. “It’s _him_ who has to learn to behave like an actual human being.”

Derek looked at him and frowned even deeper, but still didn’t say anything. His arms were still crossed over his chest, and Scott was sure he was restraining himself from strangling Stiles. He was just starting to realize that his friends were right, he shouldn’t have set up this intervention on his own, but it could not wait any longer. His alpha and his best friend were constantly fighting and he could not live like that, when they couldn’t hold a normal conversation that didn’t end with them wanting to tear each other into pieces. He knew that if Derek and Stiles became friends, they could help each other instead of having him be a carrier pigeon for them to exchange information when it was much easier for them to _talk_. 

“Okay…” he sighed, rubbing his face with his palms as if he could ignite ideas into existence. “Here’s what we’re going to do: _I_ am going to go for a walk because I can’t stand the negative energy you two are giving off, and _you_ are going to sit here and _communicate_ , I don’t care how, play twenty questions, for all I care. I’ll be back” he checked the time on his phone “whenever.” He stood from the chair in which he was sitting and looked very carefully at Stiles. “And I’m taking your phone.”

“What!?” Stiles protested. He grabbed his phone and hid it behind his back. “Scott, you are not taking my phone, what if something happens?”

“You can call anyone from Derek’s phone” he easily responded. “But nothing’s going to happen, because you are going to sit here and talk to each other and become friends so that I can live a life outside your constant quarrels.”

Stiles huffed and handed his phone over to Scott, who pocketed it on his jeans and smiled, happy to be helping his friends. 

“I hate you,” Stiles told him, frowning. Now both him and Derek were carrying the same disgruntled expression, they looked like a couple going to marriage counselling. 

“No, you don’t” Scott quickly shot back. He observed them one last time before turning around and opening the entrance door. “Communicate!” he reminded them before shutting the door behind him, leaving Stiles and Derek alone in the silent house.

They stood still, both of them with their arms crossed and a frown on their faces, but after a while, Stiles rested his hands on his knees and sighed deeply, then he started to shake his right leg up and down, then he lifted one finger to his mouth and began to chew on his nails, his leg still bouncing. 

“Stop doing that” Derek commanded. And Stiles did, but not because he had been told to, but because he was actually surprised that Derek was the first to talk. 

“Stop doing what?” he stupidly asked. 

“ _Everything_ ” Derek grunted in response. 

“Well I’m bored” Stiles complained in a childish tone that had Derek rolling his eyes and huffing. 

“We’ve been alone for five minutes, Stiles, how can you grow so restless so quickly?” He actually knew that Stiles was… a nervous person, to put it lightly. Actually, he didn’t need to watch his words: Stiles was a pain in the ass most of the time, always too loud, too shaky, too talkative, too optimistic, too… beautiful. He cleared his throat. “I actually think Scott may be right, we need to talk” he muttered, almost too low for Stiles to hear, but of course he heard him. 

“Great” he sarcastically replied. “You start then. Ask me something.” He turned on the sofa and crossed his legs to face Derek, who also turned, putting one arm on the back of the sofa. He knew better than to put his shoes on surfaces, sometimes it seemed like Stiles was the one who had been raised by wolves. 

“What is your favourite colour?”

“Aw, that’s too boring, try harder” he complained, _again_. When Derek looked at him pointedly, he quickly answered: “green. Who is your favourite member of the pack?”

“Don’t tell anyone” he demanded. Stiles nodded vigorously, not believing that he was actually going to answer. “Boyd.”

“Ooh, that’s gold. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone but oh, man” he laughed, and for a second he forgot he was supposed to hate Derek. The thing is, over the past months he realized that maybe he didn’t hate him _hate him_ , maybe he just despised his way of trying to communicate with his facial expressions, which was difficult because he only had two: angry and very angry. So perhaps he didn’t actually hate Derek, but he still didn’t know how he felt towards him. They weren’t friends, that’s for sure, but they had gone through too much stuff to only be acquaintances. Were they frenemies? “Are we frenemies?”

Derek looked at him, and wow that was a third facial expression: confusion. “Stiles we are not enemies.”

“But we aren’t friends either” he explained. “What are we?” he asked after a couple of seconds of silence.

“We are people who know each other and more often than not have to work together” Derek stated, carefully measuring his words.

“So we’re co-workers. Great.” He huffed and crossed his arms again, this time looking around the room to try and find any other distraction that didn’t involve talking to Derek.

“We could be friends, you know?” Derek whispered, after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. That caught Stiles’ attention and he glanced at him carefully. 

“How can we be friends, Derek? We have nothing in common, we very obviously dislike each other, and I don’t think being forced to interact is going to solve neither of those problems.”

“I don’t dislike you” Derek muttered. And he actually seemed embarrassed to admit it, and he lowered his head, concentrating on toying with a loose thread from the blanket on the sofa. Stiles, on the other hand, was looking directly at him, with his eyes very open and his mouth slightly parted. Derek glanced at him briefly and felt the need to clarify: “I mean, yes we don’t get along, but I don’t hate you, Stiles. I don’t think I could ever hate you” and he _blushed_.

“I don’t want to be you friend” Stiles blurted out. He immediately regretted it, though, covering his mouth with his hands as if he hadn’t meant to say that, but the words escaped his mouth without permission. 

“Oh. Well, then I guess we are wasting our time, I’ll call Scott –” he moved his hand toward his pocket to retrieve his phone, but Stiles jumped and grabbed his arm before he could do it.

“No! Wait.” He breathed heavily. “I don’t want to be your friend; I want to – I wanna kiss you.” His voice became a whisper as he talked and he turned deep red, embarrassed of his confession. “I’m sorry, I think I’m going to –” Derek interrupted him this time. He released his arm from Stiles’ hold to grab his hand and drag him towards him, making him fall on his chest. They looked at each other, both of them holding their breaths, and then Stiles lunged forward and pressed his lips to Derek’s, who grabbed his waist and positioned the boy in a much more comfortable position on his lap. 

“Wait, are we friends now?”

Instead of answering, Derek kissed him again.

  1. **I don’t wanna be your friend I wanna kiss your ~~lips~~ neck**



Stiles moaned.

“Stop it” Lydia warned him.

“But I’m _bored_ ” he complained. Changing his position on the chair for the umpteenth time in less than an hour. “Why can’t you read this weird old text and I go home to do research on a computer, maybe I’ll find something in English” he suggested.

Someone a few tables over shushed him, and he moaned again. He didn’t like having to wait for Lydia to do her research on supernatural creatures, but he was her ride, and he couldn’t just leave her alone in the library because he was bored. Unless… He pushed those thoughts aside, he wasn’t going to go home without Lydia, she was almost done anyway. So while Lydia read he went through his phone again, he could actually use the time to clear his camera roll, he started from the beginning, and started deleting pictures of his class notes that he had sent Scott, then pictures of his aunt’s cat from when he went to San Francisco for her birthday and Salem was wearing a tiny party hat, more notes, sunsets, a lot of selfies, some pictures of weird drawings of werewolves that he had found a long time ago and even more class notes. Then he came across some pictures that he didn’t remember taking, they were of him and Derek, they were in the forest, more likely after one of those hikes they all liked to take as a pack, they were sitting under a tree, Derek was deciphering a map and Stiles was lying on top of him, clearly asleep and they looked… cute.

“You’re blushing” Lydia pointed out.

“I made out with Derek yesterday” he tried to sound calm, but he wasn’t sure he had succeeded. Lydia didn’t say anything, she closed the book very slowly, put her things inside her bag and very quietly got up and started walking towards the exit. Stiles quickly followed her, and when they were both sitting inside the Jeep, she inhaled deeply and demanded an explanation.

“I want you – no, I _need_ you to tell me everything” she shouted. “I want to know, where, how, why, and why did it take you so long to tell me?”

“To be fair, you’re the first one I told” he responded and sighed deeply. “I… We were at Scott’s and he had left us alone because he wanted us to ‘be friends’ or something, and we just… started talking and he is actually very interesting and he is so cute, Lydia, I don’t think anyone in the Pack has seen him the way I did yesterday.” Lydia seemed to be thinking hard, and who wouldn’t? Derek and Stiles seemed to be like water and oil, they could be together, but they never got mixed up.

“But why didn’t you tell me about your” she gestured around, looking for a word that would best define the _thing_ “crush?”

“Because I hadn’t even realised I liked him!” Stiles whined, frustrated. “I was so focused on disliking him that I didn’t even notice that I had a – a crush on him!” his eyes opened widely. “Oh, God I have a crush on Derek. What am I going to do?” he looked expectantly at Lydia, waiting for her to give him an answer.

“Well I think you should tell him” she simply answered, and Stiles was mortified by that statement. There was no way that he was going to be able to look at Derek in the eye after what they had done yesterday but on the other hand… Ugh, he had been so sweet! They had kissed for a long time, and when Scott came back, they were cuddling on the sofa, still talking about their likes and dislikes, exchanging childhood stories and laughing. It had been the best and most wholesome experience of Stiles’ life, he got to see Derek on a new light, and he had enjoyed the delightful sound of his genuine laugh. He was completely in love with him.

“How am I going to tell him?” he blushed and started the car. “I mean, I think I made it very clear yesterday that I like him but…” he sighed again. Lydia remained silent the whole time it took them to get to her place. When they were parked in front of her house, she finally spoke:

“You are going to drive to the loft and ask him on a date” she explained, getting out of the car. “And at the end of the night, you two are going to have sex.” And she closed the door behind her, not giving Stiles a chance to complain.

When he parked in front of the loft the sun was hidden behind threatening grey clouds, and when he reached Derek’s door a thunder rumbled and gave him goosebumps.

“What are you doing here?” asked Derek opening the door even before Stiles had had the chance to Knock. Stiles blushed, a wave of insecurity washing over him, wasn’t he supposed to talk to him? He had heard about the three-day-rule but he thought that was bullshit, was it actually something that people did? He was about to turn around and leave when Derek spoke again. “Aren’t you supposed to be at practice?”

Oh. “Oh.” He visibly relaxed. “No, they cancelled because of the – the weather” he gestured around, and as if on cue, another loud thunder was heard, and rain started to pour. “Can I – Can I come in?” Derek stepped aside to let him in, and Stiles stood there awkwardly, looking around, waiting for further instructions because he couldn’t actually function properly – that’s how nervous he was.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” Derek offered from the kitchen. And maybe that’s just what he needed, something hot to calm his nerves.

“Do you have chamomile?” Stiles asked in return, and slowly walked towards the kitchen table, taking a seat next to a chair that had a gym bag hanging on it. And they stood there in silence, Derek was putting the kettle on the stove and Stiles was looking at him, attempting to memorise the way in which Derek’s muscles moved under his shirt when he reached for the teabags in the cupboard, and his face of deep focus when he poured the boiling water in two mugs, trying not to spill it all over the counter.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, taking a sip of hot tea and taking a seat in front of Stiles.

Stiles shook his head, not daring to look up. “No. I just wanted to ask you something but, it’s silly, don’t worry about it” he toyed with the string of the teabag, but Derek stopped him, reaching out to put his hand on Stiles’ arm and softly caressing it.

“It’s not silly, Stiles” he calmly retorted. “Ask away, don’t worry.”

He breathed falteringly. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” he asked quickly, and immediately regretted it, he had just embarrassed himself in front of Derek Hale, fuck. He had talked too fast, and now he was going to ask him to repeat himself, but this time at a normal pace, and Stiles was absolutely sure his heart would stop and he would die of humiliation.

But all Derek said was “yes.”

It was like an immense weight had been lifted from his chest, and he almost gasped. “Really?” he asked.

“Of course” Derek laughed. “Why wouldn’t I want to go on a date with you?” Stiles was fighting not to cry, he had been rejected all his life: there was Millie in middle school, who had told him that she didn’t want to marry him during recess; then Lydia for years and years after that, always ignoring him. When he realised that boys were actually quite attractive too, he just started getting rejected by boys too. But now Derek had just… ugh, the butterflies in his stomach wouldn’t let him think. “But for now, I think we should just stay in” he kept stroking Stiles’ arm with his thumb and looked at the window behind him, the rain was hitting the glass with force, it would be stupid to try and go out in a weather like this. “We can make something for dinner and watch a film on Netflix, what do you think?”

Was he…? Oh, sweet Jesus – people didn’t ask to _Netflix & Chill_ anymore did they? Stiles nodded anyway, because what else could he do when a man that looked like a dream come true asked him to do _anything_? So he nodded and took Derek’s hand in his, returning the soft gesture.

And just like that, they were in the living room, sitting on the sofa, eating the best macaroni and cheese that Stiles had ever tasted while an action film played on the TV, Derek had his arm over the back of the sofa, almost around Stiles’ shoulders but it seemed that he wasn’t able to make up his mind and actually embrace him. So he took matters into his own hands and scooted over to him, pressing their legs together, and rested his head against Derek’s chest, sighing at the softness of his sweater. He seemed to get the hint, and he finally wrapped his arm around Stile’s back. They looked at each other for a second and suddenly Derek lunged forward and attacked Stiles’ mouth with his own, he placed his hand at the back of Stiles’ neck and with his free hand he grabbed his hip, dragging him onto his lap. Stiles moaned and held Derek’s face in his hands as if to ensure that he would never _ever_ stop kissing him.

When they parted, Stiles’ face was red and his eyes glossy, his lips were numb and when he tried to say that he was enjoying that very much, he found himself unable to say a single word. But then Derek kissed his neck and _fucking hell_ was that good, a loud moan escaped his lips and he threw his head back to give him more access, for a second he wished he had a longer neck so that Derek would keep on rubbing his beard against him forever.

“Derek I…” he began but had to stop and take a big gulp of air when he felt teeth at his jugular. “I wanna do you too, I – I wanna kiss your neck” he managed to say. Derek pulled back and gave him a cocky smile, he knew perfectly well what he was doing, huh. He kissed Derek one last time on the lips before lunging for his neck, biting his jaw and brushing his lips against his Adam’s apple, rejoicing in the way Derek shuddered and gripped his hips with even more force.

“I want to mark you” he grunted. And at that, Stiles had to stop. He looked at Derek intently, trying to decipher whether he was actually implying that he wanted to pee on him like a dog on a streetlamp, but then Derek caressed his neck and it made sense.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Yeah, but only if I can _mark_ you too.”

Derek snorted. “Well, you can try” he claimed. But when he directed his mouth to Stiles’ neck he was suddenly stopped with a finger in his forehead.

“What do you mean I can _try_?” his mood suddenly changed; he was curious now. “Hickeys heal too?”

Derek sighed; they weren’t going to have sex that night.

  1. **I don’t wanna be your friend I wanna be your bitch**



It was absurdly late, and Stiles had to go to class the following morning. It just wasn’t fair. Stakeouts had been fun during the summer, when they would follow the supernatural creature and the next day they could sleep until noon, not having anything else to worry about, but it was November and Stiles had _responsibilities_ , which included passing his classes which he couldn’t do if he fell asleep in the middle of the lesson.

“I seriously need to go home” he complained from the passenger’s seat. Derek shushed him and continued staring at the man sitting in the diner, they had been following him all night and he had just been doing normal stuff: he took his dog out for a walk, he went home, showered, left in his car and was now in the outskirts of Beacon Hills, in a small diner having a burger and a milkshake. He was normal. “Can we at least go in? If I had a coffee I wouldn’t complain as much.”

“No” Derek simply answered, not taking his eyes from the man. Stiles crossed his arms in front of him and pouted, what was the point in having a boyfriend if he didn’t indulge him…? Wait, are they boyfriends? They certainly act as if they were. They go to the supermarket together, they go alone on stakeouts, they make out regularly and they even had that date! But they never labelled their relationship. Stiles would certainly like for them to be a couple and go on real dates with his grumpy boyfriend. But it takes two, and even though he was very much on board with the idea the other half of the equation also needed to weigh in on the matter.

Better make sure.

“Derek” he whispered, breaking the silence. When Derek ignored him, he poked his shoulder. “Hey, Derek” he tried again. He dragged his gaze from their victim and looked at him, he seemed irritated. “What are we?”

Derek turned a little bit green. “What-” his voice broke, “what do you mean ‘what are we?’”

“Yeah, are we dating or what?”

“ _We_ ” he put a lot on emphasis on that word, “are in the middle of an important mission and you should not be asking me such questions.”

He turned around and scowled, but Stiles knew he was blushing. He wished he could just get into Derek’s head for a while, just to learn how to read him. He knew that he had trust issues, like, a lot of them, some having to do with family, some with evil creepy exes, and many with… whatever he had going on in his head that resulted from being a werewolf whose only friends are a bunch of stupid teenagers. Yet, Stiles wanted to _know_. Somehow, he felt like it was his mission to make Derek feel less miserable, and he was determined to succeed.

After maybe half an hour the guy they were following left the diner, he got into his car and drove off. Derek waited a few seconds before starting the car and going after him, but the dude just got to his apartment, they saw his shape through the window and then he turned off the light. They waited in case he did anything else, but after almost an hour later, there hadn’t been any suspicious movements and they left.

It was 2:49 a.m.

“We’ll get him another day, I’m sure” Derek commented. He glanced over at Stiles, curled up in his seat and struggling to keep his eyes open, his head leaning against the window. “Do you want to crash at mine?” he asked, and the boy just nodded.

Derek’s bed looked huge with Stiles in it. His shirt also looked huge on Stiles. He couldn’t tear his eyes from him, it just looked so familiar and soothing, having him on his bed, wearing his clothes, sleeping soundly and peacefully. It had been a long time since he had felt comfortable sharing his personal space with another person; the last time he had gotten his heart broken and his family killed. It had taken him time to heal, but now that he was able to look at the boy sleeping in his bed and feel happiness – hell, even the rest of the kids were his _friends_ at this point –, he knew that the wait had been worth it. He took off his clothes and put on a pair of pyjama pants. Then, trying not to wake Stiles, he carefully laid on the bed and covered them both with the soft duvet.

The next morning, they were holding onto each other in their sleep: Stiles was curled under Derek, practically using him as a human blanket, while Derek held him against his chest, their legs intertwined.

But Stiles’ alarm went off, and Derek was startled, he reached over to the bedside table on Stiles’ side and turned it off. “Stiles… school” he grunted, still more asleep than awake, but the boy just covered his head with the pillow and turned around to face away from Derek and moaned, letting out a muffled ‘no’. “Come on, you’ll be late.”

“I don’t care. I’m like sleeping beauty. I’m in a coma until I get a kiss from a prince” he complained from under the pillow. Derek reached over and took the pillow away from Stiles’ face.

“You are going to suffocate yourself” he warned him. And then, feeling a rush of teenager-like silliness, he pecked Stiles on the lips, which caused him to open his eyes like plates and practically jump off the bed.

“Why did you do that?” he demanded. Derek almost laughed out loud, seeing Stiles looking so startled and blushing deeply.

“I’m not a prince, I know, but –” Derek started, about to make a very bad joke, but Stiles interrupted him immediately, crawling over to him and sitting on his lap, putting his hands on Derek’s shoulders for balance.

“Hey, you stop that,” he said. “You are far better than any prince.” Derek looked at him for half a second before grabbing his waist and kissing him firmly on the lips. It took Stiles by surprise – he was trying to be sweet, not sexy –, but he quickly changed his intentions and moved his hands from Derek’s shoulders to the back of his neck, bringing their faces even closer.

Stiles’ second alarm startled them both, but Derek was quick to act and turned it off, throwing them both down onto the bed again in one swift motion, laying now side by side again. He turned himself over so that he was on top of Stiles, kissing his neck like the last time, revelling in the soft caresses on his neck, on the hands gripping his arms, the nails that scratched his back and shoulders; Stiles’ moans.

“What do you want?” he asked when he felt like he had already kissed every single millimetre of skin that Stiles had on display. He held himself over the boy, with a red face, red lips and glossy, lustful eyes.

“I wanna be your bitch” he answered and before Derek could fully react, Stiles was flipping them over so that he was straddling Derek again. He held him down by putting his hands on his chest, but it didn’t prevent Derek from moving his hands to Stiles’ hips, lifting the shirt he had borrowed the previous night and revealing the black boxers that he had also borrowed. He completely took his shirt off and forgot about decency and shyness by dragging the boxers down so that he could fully grab Stiles’ ass.

“Yes,” he hissed. Stiles started moving his hips in circles, rubbing against Derek’s erection and moaning softly, Stiles bent over so that he could kiss Derek on the lips, but he didn’t manage to do so and instead he kissed his cheek, then his temple, then his neck. In a matter of seconds, they were both panting and sweating, trying desperately to rip the rest of their clothes off each other. Stiles took off his – actually Derek’s – shirt and immediately moved to take of Derek’s pyjama pants and boxers.

“Can I…?” he began to ask, gesturing to Derek’s crotch, and he could no nothing but nod and lay back. “I’ve never… I’m a virgin” he confessed, embarrassed.

“It’s okay, I can do you” he began, but Stiles actually cut him off.

“No, no. I want to try” he insisted, stroking Derek’s erection through his boxers. “Can you guide me or something?”

Derek eagerly nodded, and suddenly his member was released, and Stiles’ lips were placed on the tip, sending a shudder through his body. It had been a long time since he had been naked with another person, let alone had any sort of intercourse. It felt almost new to him as well. Stiles, on the other hand, was really experiencing his first time, and he wanted to make it good for him, so he put all of his thoughts aside and focused on Stiles’ eyes looking directly into his, on his lips stretching over the girth of his cock, on his moans of pleasure, on his apparent lack of a gag reflex that allowed him to take Derek all the way in, until his nose was resting on Derek’s pubes and he had to fight not to come.

“I’m – almost…” he managed to let out, right before Stiles managed to draw back and he came on his lips, on his chest, on his lashes. He could almost get hard again right then just from the sight. Then Stiles licked his lips and Derek sighed and had to close his eyes for a second; he was going to get an aneurysm.

Feeling the blood reach his brain again, Derek moved them around so that Stiles was lying next to him and he was finally able to kiss him again, reaching for his erection at the same time and slowly stroking him, fast then slow then fast again until Stiles was coming all over Derek’s hand.

The morning sun was now blinding them both on Derek’s huge bed, but they still laid there, taking their time to collect themselves before even thinking about Stiles being late for class.

Stiles broke the silence.

“Next time” he murmured. “You give me something to eat before all of this, I feel like I’m about to pass out.” And he laughed softly.

Derek hummed. “How about we go out for dinner this weekend?” he asked, placing a kiss on Stiles’ temple. “You can spend the night here.” Another kiss. “In the morning I’ll make you breakfast, and we can drive to the beach.”

“I- I would like that very much” Stiles mumbled, already drifting back to sleep. But Derek nudged him with his knee.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep again, you’re already late for class.” Stiles groaned and mumbled something about not needing two dads, but he rolled out of the bed to walk like a zombie towards the bathroom and take a shower. When he sat on the kitchen counter wearing the same clothes as the previous day, a bowl of cereal and a glass of juice was waiting for him. Derek even offered to drive him to school and pick him up afterwards.

“Careful there” Stiles warned him. “If you keep spoiling me like this, I’ll start to believe that you are in love with me” he joked when the car stopped at the high school parking lot. “Thank you” he whispered. “It was… incredible. You were incredible. I hope that you weren’t messing with me about dinner this weekend.”

Derek reached over the console and grabbed Stiles’ hand. “I would never” he answered, and sincerity filled his words. “Yesterday you asked me about the status of our… relationship and… well, I-” he took a deep breath. “I wanna be your boyfriend.”

Stiles smiled widely and reached over to kiss him on the lips.

“I don’t wanna be your friend either” he winked.


End file.
